Normal People

 Hesitation. Doubts. Qualms. These three words always accompany every single interaction they have. Still, something kept them both in each other's thoughts. Constantly.

Even though it's been 5 years since they met. 

Until today. 

He was finally visiting her. 5 years later. Her little corner of the world. Where she has dreamed a million dreams. At least half of them had him in them. 

She has a hard time picking just few spots to visit in the 2 hours that he can spend here. Because she wants to retrace every step she has taken in the last 18 years, but this time with him. Show him all her favorite haunts and see him love them as she does.

She still remembers the shy and quiet pride with which he showed her his favorite place. Now she wanted to do that. Take him everywhere and make his mark so that after he leaves, she can live in those places with his shadow.

But. Just 2 hours. 

"I can't believe how fast 2 hours can go", he smiled ruefully. 

"I'm glad we made the most of it", she smiled back.

She didn't have enough time - she never will when the time is with him . But she achieved at least a bit of what she set out to do. She had taken him to her favorite beach - knowing beaches are his happy place too, the library where she lounges, the cafe where everyone knows her, the restaurant which serves the best chicken made just like she knew he would enjoy, the musical she knew he would be interested in, and now ending at her favorite rooftop bar.

Only a short time left before he has to leave. 

They lean over the parapet watching the city rushing by below them. 

The easy camaraderie of the day is coming now to a stilted rhythm. Though their conversations always felt like there were more words unsaid than uttered, the flow usually doesn't stop . But the farewells always have stumbles and stammers. Why is she hesitant? What doubts does he have? Neither can say. 

5 years have given her some courage though. She feels him looking at her and she turns to him. Leans in. He pulls back, doubtfully and slowly. She sighs. He is unsure and looks at her questioningly. Refusing to believe what she clearly shows. 

She looks away and says "am I getting this wrong?" 

"What?", he is still afraid to hope. 

She was quiet, trying to gather the words. "When I visited you, you asked your sister to come stay with us. Why?" 

He clearly didn't expect this. He was thrown. "Err... 5 years ago? Because... Because I thought you'll be more comfortable if another girl was there" 

She is holding the railing tight, trying to get the words out without breaking, "who else but you can make me comfortable?" 

He heard what he wanted to hear. 

He pulls her close in one sweep and lets his mouth hover over hers. 

"Really?" 

"Really" 

Kisses her resolutely. She melts. Without breaking the kiss, she runs her hand through his hair, the thick locks hugging her back. Exploring every single strand, especially the tiny ones above his ear. 

"Oh I've always wanted to do that", she sighs when they're done. Not moving her hand. Looking longingly at his hair. 

He looks amused, " THAT'S what you wanted to do?", he chuckles. 

"Among other things", she sparkles mischievously. 

Doubts - gone!

Hesitation - none!

Qualms - nil!

அவன்

 ”ஹாய், என் பேர் சூர்யா”

முதல் சந்திப்பின் கை குலுக்கலில் 

உன் விரல்களை அறிந்தேன்

”வீட்டில் கொண்டு விடுறேன் வா”

பைக் ஏறி உட்காருகையில்

உன் தோள்களை அறிந்தேன் 

”எப்போ பார்க்க போறோம்”

விடைபெறும் தழுவலில்

உன் முதுகை முழுதாய் அறிந்தேன் 

"இன்னுமா புரியல? ”

முதல் முத்த ஸ்பரிசத்தில் 

உன் அதரங்கள் அறிந்தேன்

"இப்படியே இருக்கணும் "

என் மடியில் உன் தலை கோதி 

உன் கேசக்கால்கள் அறிந்தேன் 

”நான் தூக்கிக்கறேன் வா”

என் வலியை நீ சுமக்க

உன் நெஞ்சை அறிந்தேன் 

”அவ்வளவு எல்லாம் வலிக்கல”

நீ தட்டி கழித்தும் நான் நீவி விட

உன் பாதங்களை அறிந்தேன் 

"கொஞ்சம் பொறுத்துக்கோ டா"

எனக்காக உதிரும் கண்ணீர் துடைத்து

உன் கன்னங்களை அறிந்தேன் 

" உன்ன மாதிரியே இருக்கா "

பெருமையான தந்தை உன் 

அன்பின் ஆழம் அறிந்தேன்

"..... "

எனக்கான மௌன மொழி பேசும் 

உன் கண்ணில் அதீத காதல் தவிர

வேறு என்ன அறிவேன்? 

Forbidden

If those eyes glance 

Will they speak pages?

If that fingertip grazes

Will it ignite a volcano?

If those lips curve

Will that sweeten life?

If those words are heard

Will they give wings?

If those hands hold 

Will it warm the heart?

Butterfly kisses

Tender caress

Warm cuddles

Treasured snuggles 

Dreamed with fervor

Destined never to savor

Walking parallel paths

Side by side but

Forever oceans apart

Nomad

I left my hometown about 16 years ago. Have called multiple places 'home' since then. 

Only after leaving home, I believe I truly started adulting.

Because that's when I started making decisions, making mistakes, being responsible for someone else, being really alone and learning to live without a guardrail. 

 These are the experiences that mold you. And where you experience them - your surroundings, play a tremendous role in molding the kind of adult that you become. 

 Maybe that is why, whenever I visit my hometown, I revert to the naïve child that I was. I'm lucky to have my childhood home still, and every visit there effortlessly takes me back to those times. Within a day of my visit, all 16 years' worth of life take a backseat. Example: while there, I couldn't even recall the name of a street that I pass by every day to work!

 In my mind, I was smoothly back into the groove that I left 16 years ago - a puzzle piece fitting back in. 

 Floating in this fancy. I accompanied my mother to a store. Towards the end of our time there, as we were ready to leave, the sweet lady helping us asked me, 'Where are you from?'. 

 I looked at her, surprised, and gave her the usual answer I give to that question: 'Well, here… Chennai'. 

 'Oh, you don't look like you're from here'.

 THUD. 

Yea, well, that was me - no longer floating. Apparently it was not as smooth a fit that I thought I had! 

 And there, in my hometown, I had the immigrant experience - now everyone thinks you're 'not from here'! 

Let me choose to take this as having become a citizen of the world instead - யாதும் ஊரே யாவரும் கேளிர் 😊

First time

"The first time?"

He scrunches up his face in an effort to remember. He turns and looks at the waves. I can see him starting to blush as the memory comes to him.                                                       

It hits me then that I've always loved to see him blush. 

"You remember Sadhana, right? One day after class, I drove her home in my bike", he continues, "she got down and without any warning, quickly leaned in and kissed me and then ran inside her house. That was the first time. It was very sweet and completely unexpected." 

"I wouldn't say unexpected. You are very kissable", I don't realize I had said that out loud until his head snaps around at me.

With mischief and mirth in his eyes he asks, "oh yeah? Then how come, all these years, you never kissed me?" 

"Because I was an idiot", I say, ready to throw caution to the wind.

He smirks and looks back at waves again.

"You know what?" I continue, " I'm much smarter now."

And that is the first time I kiss him. 

Are you cold?

I was reading Emily Henry's 'Happy Place' . Harriet there, doesn't want to show her sadness to her friends and family since she's worried that her sadness will sadden them and she definitely doesn't want to be the cause for their sadness. 

So she hides it and deals with it on her own. 

Which results in them considering her as closed-off and not sharing with them. So instead of making them sad, she's made them mad! 

Then I happen upon these lines from 'Dark Dark Wood' by Ruth Ware 

"I never know what to say in these situations. I hate people prying into my business, so I assume others will feel the same way. But sometimes they want to spill, it seems, and then you look cold and odd, backing away from their confidences. I try to be completely nonjudgmental - not pushing for secrets, not repelling confessions." 

Well ... stories of my life! Still haven't found the sweet spot between being inviting and gently repelling prying. Between sharing confidences and fear overwhelming. Between being warmly open and being a dumpster. 

Collateral damage of being considerate and independent is being perceived as standoffish and rude!

Note that these characters are the narrative voices in both these books and also here in this blog. Meaning... Our perception of self vastly differs from how we're being perceived! And we end up writing about it ourselves because how else can we explain!?

What heartens me is that if more then one author is writing of our cold standoffish characters, there's company for us! Art imitates life! And remember, these are protagonists. So my fellow narrators, do not fear of not being understood - keep bringing that main character energy!! 

Mood Music

A drive in ECR is always pleasant. If you have music to accompany your drive, it's the tops!
On one such drive, I was fiddling with the radio to find a good station. My taste in music usually changes as frequently as the weather. That day, I tended towards melodies. I hit on a station that was playing a hitherto favorite song of mine, Evano Oruvan from the flick Alaipayuthe. A soulful high pitch rendering by Swarnalatha.
I was shocked to hear my friend say, "Hey change the damn song. Why is that female screeching so awfully? Find a station that plays a better song".
He changed the station to a one playing a lilting number. He looked at me and said, "Why are you listening to such sad songs now? Let's hear happy songs Mat".
Though I didn't realise at that time, the change in the tune made a definite impact on my mood.

Another time, when I was listening to another melodious number, Mudhal Mazhai from Bheema, my friend came up to me and suggested that I hear another song from the movie which was of a buoyant nature. The Rangu Rangamma she suggested played a significant role in keeping my mind in a happy frame.

Generally when we're sad, subdued or in silent contemplation of life, we tend to listen to music that reflects our mood. But, I find that people such as my aforementioned friends, who tend towards cheery songs are invariably almost always in a cheery mood. They liven up the place.

Do songs define our mood? Or do we select the songs we wish to hear based on our mood? I found that whatever my mood be, listening to a bouncy number always perks me up! Life is happier :-)